


Powers of  Love

by HYPERFocused



Category: The President's Daughter series - Ellen Emerson White
Genre: American Politics, Best Friends, F/M, Gen, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury Recovery, Kidnapping, Paparazzi, Pets, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1639358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A picture captures a moment Meg didn't even know she had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powers of  Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lomedet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lomedet/gifts).



> The story seemed to want to end here, but I know I want to know what comes next. Perhaps a New Year's sequel.
> 
> Written for Lomedet

 

 

Meg's been dreading the phone call ever since she saw the picture in the magazine: she and Preston having lunch at their favorite Italian place. Kind of a dive, but divinely good, and off the beaten path enough that she thought they'd had some privacy. She was leaning forward for a bit of his Tiramisu, and he was brushing a strand of her hair out of the way of his chocolate covered plate. She could see how that might have looked pretty intimate.

Meg knew Beth couldn't _not_ comment, much as she would like to avoid Beth's particular brand of "bracing honesty' (as Beth called it) or "Jesus, did you really just _say_ that?" (as Meg usually put it.).

Not that it was unheard of for _US_ or _People_ or _In Touch_ or _In Style_ \-- she always got those two mixed up-- to run a photo of "Former First Daughter Meghan Powers" or "Preston Fielding, Communications Director for President Katherine Powers." 

Frankly it was more unusual when they didn't have a picture of her or her brothers. Neal, who at seventeen was pretty much teen model handsome, got smiling images in _Teen People_ and the like, and should maybe have been way more self-conscious about that than he was, took it all in stride. Steven tended to scowl at the cameras, except when he was caught in mid-pitch, in which case he was more likely to be scowling at the hitter.

It had been a long time since a paparazzo had snapped her chasing after a fast moving ball. Most of her pictures showed her crutching or caning it across various campuses. Or in more current shots walking pretty damn close to normally, thanks very much to the latest round of arthroscopic surgery. Depending on how the vultures thought she was doing, her name was accompanied by 'Recuperating' (pretty much a constant, though it made her feel like she'd been _sick_ ) or 'lucky-to-be-alive'(also true, but she sure as hell didn't feel lucky most of the time), or even "Plucky" (said when her response to questioning was just a shade _too_ snide). Her view on when this line was crossed varied greatly with theirs, she suspected.

She was always going to be news, though hopefully not first page/top story/break-in programming again anytime soon. And Preston was probably always going to be the type to sell a lot of magazines. He'd made the cover of _GQ_ , and the Most Beautiful People list, and no, she and Beth didn't make a point of picking up (okay, requesting) these issues each year and comparing notes on who only looked good air-brushed, and who was genuinely remarkably attractive. Preston, of course, was both genuine and remarkable.

Sure enough, Beth's call came at 6:00, meaning she was reading it on her way home from her work at the adolescent psychology clinic. She didn't bother to say hello, just started in on Meg with a "So, the cat's out of the bag."

Ridiculously, Meg looked over at her partially unpacked suitcase, where Vanessa should have been sleeping. Almost five years since she'd died, and Meg still missed her. None of the cats she'd had since had come close to taking her place.

"I'm afraid I don't know which feline or which receptacle you mean." Meg could be deliberately obtuse with the best of them,

"You and Preston. Something you want to be telling me about that?" Beth wasn't buying it. Meg wasn't surprised. She didn't generally have stupid friends.

"We had a lovely lunch. It was wonderful to see him. He's a dear friend." Meg knew Beth couldn't see her 'butter wouldn't melt in her mouth" expression, but she was sure Beth imagined it there.

" 'Dear Friend' my ass. That man is smitten. Besotted. And you're an idiot if you don't recognize that you feel the same way."

"He's practically family, Beth. I've known him since I was a girl." She wasn't an idiot, but nor was she stupid enough to pursue something that wasn't gong to go anywhere. No way was her interest returned. Preston loved her like he loved all her family. Like Trudy loved them.

"Maybe Doppelganger family..." Beth said dubiously. Meg laughed. They'd both spent some formative pre-teen years combing through the V.C Andrews collection.

"Hey, at least I never had my _mother or grandmother_ lock me up, abandon me to starve, and try to kill me." Meg said. Beth was about the only person with whom she could begin to make jokes like that. Even so, she could hear the wince.

"Don't think I can't tell what you're doing. Changing the subject."

"I didn't think we had a subject, other than the tabloid press, and how they misinterpret innocent lunches between friends."

"I know they get it wrong a lot of the time," Beth admitted.

"Like that picture of you with your arm around me where they said "On the rebound from California Cad Jack, Megan gets extra close to longtime Gal Pal Beth Schulman.' "They'd taken that after she and Jack broke up, and she and Beth were eating celebratory/commiseration burgers (Meg was only really sad in a theoretical sense to see the relationship end)

"Hey, if you were going to switch teams, you'd do it for me, wouldn't you?"

"Naturally." It hadn't happened so far, though she knew Beth had walked the fence at least once, back in college. She had a terrific boyfriend now, but was the first to point out that it had been a Jill Sobule, not a Katy Perry, sort of experience.

"So you're saying I completely misinterpreted the photo?" Beth sounded dubious. "Even though there enough heat showing between you that if you were characters in a book or movie, people would be writing stories about you?"

"I'm pretty sure stories like that already exist." Not that she wanted to read them. Not even the ones on PrestonDigitation. "Definitely. Despite the wackos on Live Journal, he would never think of me that way." Meg was pretty sure Preston vacillated between thinking of her as the snide teenager she'd probably been, or the damaged, needy young adult she'd turned into after those thirteen days. There was a big difference between saying 'You've turned into a lovely woman", and wanting said woman for yourself.

"First of all, I don't think that's true. But even if it is, it's only because he won't _let_ himself. But you're not the sixteen year old daughter of his employer anymore. You're tenured Professor Meghan Powers. You've got your shit together. All you need is someone worthy of you to share it with."

'It's not like I haven't dated. Had relationships."Meg protested. "I'm not exactly easy to be with."

"You're harder on yourself than anyone has a right to be. And Preston knows you and loves you anyway."

Meg had to admit, he probably knew her better than anybody. "He hasn't complained about being in my company, this is true, But that doesn't mean--"

"Well, let's test it out. Ask him on something he can interpret, or not, as a real date. Maybe bring him to your reunion."

"Beth, _I_ don't even want to go to my reunion." It wasn't like she actually graduated high school. Or at least not in the traditional cap and gown sense. She didn't think most of her classmates wanted her there, either, a reminder of some pretty stressful times. Lots of people coasted last semester senior year. Most didn't miss it because they were kidnaped as a message to their mother,the President.

"I know. But you should. If only so you can bring Preston, and knock everyone's socks off."

"Beth, they aren't going to declare me prom queen like Peggy Sue Got Married."

"Please. Preston is a lot hotter than Nicholas Cage. And you're cooler than Kathleen Turner."

"So sayeth my biased best friend."

"Just promise me you'll think about it. I know you think I'm a nudge. It's just that you looked genuinely happy in that picture, and you don't, usually. And he looked like a man in love." 

Meg promised Beth she would think about it, then steered the conversation to Beth and the goings on in her always colorful life. Thoughts of what Beth had observed kept her awake that night, more than the twinges in her hand and knee still did. 

She knew there would be another call in the morning, from Preston himself. Probably laughing about it all, or apologizing for the intrusiveness of an uncontrolled press. As if it was his fault.

"I'm not wild about the cameras," she was going to tell him, "But I think I like what they captured." Sometimes a picture -- even one taken with a telephoto lens through a restaurant window-- was worth a thousand words. Or three little words they were both too scared to say.

 


End file.
